Picking up toys

Chores.  We hate doing them, especially as children, but there are few things that teach responsibility and the value of hard work better than chores.  Parenting two small children has meant that I do the chores while my kids are occupied elsewhere.  For awhile this seemed to work the best.  I could get cleaning and laundry done as fast and efficiently as possible with as little distraction as possible.  However, now that my son Gabriel is 4 1/2, it is time to start implementing chores...for character building if nothing else.  And so, here lies the remains of that trying endeavor.

"Okay, Gabriel, as soon as you are done watching your show, we are going to clean up your room together."

He grunts in what I take as agreement, whether that is true or not, I do not care to know.  Within seconds of that statement and my leaving the room, Gabriel and Lucca engage in an endless battle of "MINE!".  Alrighty then, our cleaning starts now.  I haul Gabriel off to his room, while he is still yelling about Lucca imposing on his show-time.  This may not be the best way to begin our new chore sessions, but I can't stop this train once it's left the station.

"Gabe, why don't you pick up the books on the floor and bring them to me so that I can put them away on your bookshelf."

"No, Mom.  I just want to read this story."

"No, Gabriel.  You can read the story when we're done picking up your room.  Now, please bring me those books."

"I can't.  It's too hard.  I'll just play with my toys."

"No, it's not too hard.  Just pick up the books and bring them to me."

(Lucca is ever helpful in these situations and starts handing me whatever is nearest to him, which is great, but defeats the purpose of engaging his older brother in a little cooperation and cleanliness.)

"I can't!  It's too hard!  No, Mom!"

I am beginning to lose my patience a little. 

No Greater Love Than This

A sweet Long Beach store owner once told me, "You don't know what love truly is until you have a child." It was a statement at which I smiled politely, thinking that I already understood love quite well, but what a sweet sentiment.

The conception of my son was not planned. We were living in LA in the Los Feliz Village, one of the most expensive zip codes in America. Los Angeles contains 4 million people, all trying to survive financially and physically in the hordes of traffic that clog all freeways and major streets. Grad school seemed to loom in my future, as I contemplated degrees (MFT or Art Therapy) and schools (Pepperdine, Loyola, Azusa). Life seemed predicable and routine.

Then the tests. After two positive home tests, it seemed pretty certain. The doctor's visit confirmed our suspicions and life turned upside down.

Babies change the way you view every single detail in life, from your eating habits to prospective elementary schools. As my little 'Lentil' grew, so did my hopes and fears for him. Pregnancy is a miracle that women are privileged to experience. Men experience the miracle too, just in a more distanced way. But women live in each and every moment, the sick ones and the giddy ones when you feel your baby kick for the first time and the first time you hear that little, steady heartbeat.

The wonders and aches of pregnancy all culminate into the climax of childbirth. It is the most exciting, adrenalin-pumping, frightening, painful and wonderful occurance any human can hope to have. And then you see him (or her), that little life you've been carrying all this time, the person who ate what you ate, slept, moved, and took away your figure and your energy and your time. I believe that God designed pregnancy to prepare women for motherhood: it's no longer about you, mom. Life now revolves around child.

When I saw my little one's head emerging from my womb and his little body that soon followed, my heart stood still. As Peter O'Toole said, "The most beautiful thing a man will ever see is woman's naked body. The most beautiful thing a woman will see is the birth of her first child." (Venus)

My son is 10 weeks old now. He grows and changes a little every day--the world is an interesting and beautiful place to him, full of new sounds, sights, textures, and skin sensations. Many times I can only look at him and weep, for my heart is so full with love for him that it hurts. It may sound cliche to some, but these are the only words I can find to express the intensity of this emotion.

Grad school and personal ambitions have taken a backseat for the time being. I am confident they will re-emerge when the time is right, but for now my calling is to care for and raise my son. I am happy with my new life away from the city and surrounded by family and the things I love. Gabriel was a suprise for us, but there never was a baby more wanted in the world.